THE SUMMERHOUSE.
A NIGHT'S sleep refreshed Kate, and she awoke the next morning in
a much better temper with herself and the rest of the world. She
now resolved not to be too rude to Molly, to cultivate Cecil Ross'
acquaintance up to a certain point, and, if possible, to get the exact
truth out of Matilda. She went down, therefore, to breakfast looking
somewhat like her usual self. Molly quite cheered up when Kate nodded
to her and asked Cecil a few questions with regard to the sort of night
she had had, and also her prospects for the day.
"I feel a little nervous, of course," answered Cecil; "but I long
to know Miss Forester. From all I have heard of her, she must be a
wonderful woman."
"Miss Forester is about the cleverest woman in the north of England,"
answered Kate, with a little ring of her old enthusiasm in her voice.
"Oh, Kate, how good you were to me my first day at school!" exclaimed
Molly.
Kate looked at her fixedly, and her brows darkened.
"Of course; it is one's duty to be kind to strangers," she said, in a
careless tone. "Your friend, Miss Ross, will have no trouble at all,
Molly, for you'll take her under your wing, and everyone knows that you
are a prime favorite with Miss Forester."
"Why do you call Cecil Miss Ross?" said Molly; "and why----"
She stopped abruptly. Her frank but troubled eyes asked whole volumes
of questions, but her lips were silent. Kate felt touched in spite of
herself.
"The right thing would be to go straight to Molly and tell her
everything," whispered conscience in her breast.
But she would not listen to it.
"If Molly is mean enough to repeat my greatest confidences, she may
go," thought the proud girl. "She is all right now; she has got her
dearest friend. She does not want me any longer. Catch me ever telling
her anything private again. Of course she told, for no one else knows.
Matilda could not have invented the story. Yes, Julia, what is it?"
"Can I see you for a moment after prayers, Kate?" asked Julia Hinkson.
"If you have anything important to say. I never looked at my notes last
night, and want to work them up a little before lecture."
"I won't keep you five minutes; I---- The fact is, there is something
you ought to know."
"Very well; I will speak to you in the hall," answered Kate.
The girls had now to go into the dining room for prayers. This short
service over, Molly hurried her friend upstairs, and Kate and Julia
found themselves alone in the entrance hall.
"Now, out with it, Julia, for I am in an awful hurry," said Kate.
"It's only fair you should know," said Julia. "You've been so kind to
Molly Lavender."
"Oh, dear, dear,"--Kate put her hand to her forehead,--"why will people
harp on my kindness to poor Molly? It strikes me that she has been the
kind one to me. Now, what have you got to say, Julia?"
"Only that if I were you," said Julia, "I would not repeat things too
much to a girl of that sort."
"What do you mean?"
Kate's face became crimson.
"Dear me, Kate, how mad you look!" exclaimed Julia. "I don't think I'll
say any more. You can take a hint, can't you?"
"No, I can't! I hate hints," answered Kate. "Out with the whole thing
this minute, Julia. What have you to say against Molly? What confidence
has she betrayed?"
"Matilda is the one who told me. Matilda is making the greatest use of
it: she's telling everybody all over the school."
Kate's brow was now as black as thunder.
"Oh, Kate, Kate, don't look so awful! you terrify me, you really do."
"What has she been saying?" asked Kate. She clutched Julia by her
shoulder as she spoke.
Julia was rather a coward, and she shrank when she found herself in
Kate's firm grip.
"Tell me at once what Matilda has been saying about me?" she asked.
"Oh, Kate, you do frighten me so awfully!"
"All right; come along this minute to Molly Lavender's room; perhaps
she'll explain if you won't."
"Oh, I'll tell, if you don't look so frightful, and if--if you'll
promise not to betray me."
"Of course I won't betray you, you little coward; I am not that sort.
Now, then, out with it!"
"Well, then, Kate---- Oh, dear, dear, how your eyes do flash! Of
course I don't believe it, Kate, not for a minute. Matilda says that
Molly told her. Kate, I wish you wouldn't pinch me so. Molly told her
that--that you are not--of course you _are_--but Molly told Matilda
that you are not a lady; you used to be a dairymaid, and you didn't
wear shoes and stockings, and you are awfully poor. Oh, Kate, of course
it's a lie! but she says that you are here on charity."
"That will do," said Kate; "you have said quite enough. Now, of course,
I'm not going to betray you. Get along with you, and keep it dark that
you told me a word of all this."
"But you don't suppose I believe it, Kate, dear. You will give me
leave to contradict it, won't you? They are all talking about it."
"Let them talk," said Kate.
"But I may contradict it, may I not?"
"_No!_"
"Then it is----"
"It is nothing; you may not contradict it; it is not your affair. Go
now, and keep your own counsel. Be off, and leave me alone."
As Kate uttered these last words, she gave Julia a little push. Julia
was only too glad to leave the angry girl to herself.
Matilda Matthews was having a very good time in one of the tennis
courts that afternoon. The tennis season was nearly over; the weather
was getting even more than autumnal. Matilda was by no means an active
girl; she disliked games almost as much as she disliked study. She was
not a favorite in the ordinary sense of the word. Nevertheless, girls
like Matilda can exercise a considerable influence over certain orders
of mind. Matilda was the acknowledged scandalmonger of the school. Her
tidbits of information, although, as a rule, by no means savory, were
often highly seasoned. She had the reputation of setting more girls
by the ears, of destroying more friendships, than anyone else in the
place. Still it was thought best by the prudent members of the school
to keep on Matilda's right side. Her friendship was not really valued,
but it was considered safer than her enmity.
From the first day of her arrival, Matilda had taken a violent dislike
to Molly Lavender. Molly had snubbed her, and Matilda could not stand
being snubbed. She looked out, therefore, for a means of revenge,
and an opportunity arose all too quickly. Matilda was the sort of
girl who could sneak and spy. She had almost a genius for this sort
of dirty work. Her ugly little person was constantly seen where no
one expected to find her. She cultivated her talents with assiduity,
for by these means she acquired power over her fellow-students. On a
certain occasion, about a week ago, Kate and Molly had taken a long
walk together. On their return home they had entered the extensive
recreation grounds which belonged alike to all the houses of residence.
They were both tired, and walking across the wide field, had entered
the little summerhouse where the cricket bats, tennis bats, and other
implements of sport were kept. They sat down together, and began to
talk.
It was on this occasion that Kate had been drawn out to speak of
her early home. It was then that she had first mentioned her old
grandfather, the summer evenings, the cows and horses, and all the
precious things of her vanished childhood. She had spoken with feeling,
and Molly had given her a whole world of sympathy. Neither of the
girls knew that Matilda, who happened to be alone in this part of the
grounds, had crept to the back of the summerhouse, and deliberately
listened to their conversation.
The summerhouse was built of wood; there was a hole in a certain notch,
and to this hole Matilda applied her rosy ear. She heard everything,
and metaphorically clapped her hands with delight. Now, indeed, she
was possessed of a dangerous weapon. It was within her power to sever
a friendship which she detested, and to humble proud Kate O'Connor in
the eyes of all her companions. Matilda was too clever not to go warily
to work. It would never do for the girls of the school to find out that
she had gained her information by eavesdropping; she must draw Molly
out to drop a hint or two with regard to Kate. By the aid of this hint,
and her own perfect knowledge, Matilda could soon set a ball of gossip
and ill-will rolling through the place.
The next day, at lecture, she tried to make herself agreeable to Molly.
She was generally so spiteful that the change in her conduct could not
but be hailed with relief.
"How splendidly you are getting on!" said Matilda, when the lecture had
come to an end. "I did not think you would at first, but now I see that
you are very clever."
"That is not the case," answered Molly, in her blunt way. "I have
simply got the most average abilities; but the fact is, a girl must be
very stupid who does not improve in the atmosphere of such a place as
this."
"You talk like a book," said Matilda. "Well, there is one thing I do
envy you."
"What is that?" asked Molly.
"Your friendship with Kate O'Connor."
"Do you?" replied Molly. "I am glad you can appreciate her; there is
not a girl in the school like her."
"I will tell you what I think about her," said Matilda slowly. She
avoided Molly's eyes as she spoke. "She is so completely out of the
common that she must have had quite an uncommon life. I should not be
a bit surprised if she were one of those brave girls who have known
poverty, and have risen above it. I should call her, if I were asked,
one of nature's ladies. After all, nature does make noble, queen-like
sort of women now and then, whatever their position in life. Is that
not true, Molly Lavender?"
"Yes, it is perfectly true," answered Molly, wondering at Matilda's
discernment. "There is no one in the school I respect like Kate."
"Do you think I have gauged her character correctly?" asked Matilda, in
her softest tones.
"You have, Matilda, quite wonderfully."
"She is one of nature's ladies, is she not?"
"Indeed she is."
"She has known poverty, and has risen above it?"
"Yes, she has had a noble life," answered Molly. "I am so glad you
appreciate her."
"I long for her friendship," said Matilda, with a sigh; "but alas! it
is not for me; she would despise a girl of my sort."
"Not if you lived up to her," said Molly, turning round and gazing
full at Matilda's low-class face.
Something in the expression of the bad girl's eyes caused Molly to
recoil and draw into her shell. But she had said quite enough for
Matilda's purpose, and the scandal which was to wreck a beautiful
friendship began to circulate through the school on that very
afternoon.